Infamous
by the local knicker merchant
Summary: Peter pays dearly for his act of revenge.


**Infamous**

"Barlow," a gruff voice roused Peter from his reverie.

"I know, I know, it's lights out," he replied without looking up; he knew the drill.

"Here," the man held out a newspaper clipping, waving it in front of Peter's face. "You're famous."

Peter took the clipping from the man's hands without a word and stared at it with unseeing eyes as the heavy footsteps retreated and the door slammed shut, leaving Peter alone once more.

He knew what the article would say, he didn't need to read it to know what his life had become. At the loss he had both sustained and inflicted. But still, he couldn't resist; because, just reading her name, the words of strangers describing her tragic fate, in a curious way it made him feel closer to her, made him feel like she wasn't really gone. For a split second he could imagine that she was with him again.

So he read the article. For her.

* * *

**Courtroom killer sentenced to life**

Peter Barlow, 51, was sentenced today to life in prison for the brutal slaying of local restauranteur, Nick Tilsley, 35, late last year.

An unrepentant Mr Barlow declared Mr Tilsley 'scum of the earth who deserved everything he got' at his pre-sentencing hearing, giving the presiding judge, the honourable Justice Warren McMahon, no alternative but to impose the maximum penalty the law allows. Mr Barlow will serve a period of 25 years before he will be eligible for parole.

Security measures at Manchester's Crown Court were called into question in November last year when Mr Barlow attacked Mr Tilsley in front of a packed courtroom with the resulting public outcry leading to the formation of a royal commission into courtroom safety. The commission is due to begin public hearings in July.

Mr Tilsley later died in hospital from the injuries sustained during the attack.

At the time of his death, Mr Tilsley was on trial for the murder of his wife, Carla Connor, on the night of their wedding on 22 May 2016. It was alleged that Mr Tilsley strangled his wife while she was sleeping.

While Mr Tilsley confessed to the murder of Mrs Connor, he had plead not guilty on the grounds of diminished responsibility due to a brain injury he had sustained in 2013 as a result of a motor vehicle accident.

During Mr Tilsley's testimony, he relived the moment he realised he had lost control over his actions, describing it as a 'red mist descending over his mind', only to discover that he had strangled his wife to death as she lay sleeping in the honeymoon suite of a local hotel. He testified that he had no recollection of the deadly act itself, claiming this type of blackout rage was one of the symptoms of his brain injury.

When questioned about previous acts of violence towards Mrs Connor, Mr Tilsley confessed to a violent incident some weeks before their May wedding that left Mrs Connor with an abrasion on her cheek.

It was at this point in the testimony that Mr Barlow ran down from the public gallery and, after catapulting himself over the barriers separating the defendant from the courtroom, physically attacked Mr Tilsley by punching him repeatedly in the head and, when the victim fell to the ground, continued the attack by kicking and stomping on his head.

It took three security guards to pull Mr Barlow off Mr Tilsley, at which point Mr Barlow launched a verbal attack on the now unconscious victim, shouting incoherently about his love for 'Carla'.

Prior to Mrs Connor's relationship and marriage to Mr Tilsley, she had been in a relationship with Mr Barlow for two and a half years. Their brief marriage ended in May 2014 when it was revealed that Mr Barlow had engaged in an extra-marital affair.

It seems, however, that Mr Barlow's feelings for his ex-wife still ran deep, with his testimony at the pre-sentencing hearing revealing his overriding motive for the killing of Mr Tilsley was to avenge his ex-wife's murder.

"She was the love of my life," Mr Barlow testified to a courtroom packed with a mixture of his supporters along with Mr Tilsley's family, friends and colleagues.

"I blame myself completely for the fact that she's not standing here in front of me right now. If I hadn't of acted so badly during our marriage, if I hadn't driven Carla away and ultimately into the arms of another man, then she would never have found herself at the mercy of a madman. At the mercy of a man she should have been able to trust with her life.

"But he took her life. He took her life away not just from her, but from every person who loved her, from every person who misses her every single day, every person who aches with the pain of knowing she's not here anymore.

"I couldn't save her in life. I failed her. The only thing I could do was to give her some peace in death. By giving her justice. I was happy to do it. I did it for her. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Mr Barlow will be eligible to apply for parole in 2042; he will be 76 years old.

* * *

Peter lowered the newspaper clipping and crumpled it in his fist as the tears ran down his cheeks. He didn't wipe them away; they came so often these days it was as if they were a natural extension of himself, a daily reminder of what he'd become.

He didn't regret it though, not one bit. When he looked around the room, the cell, with its grey concrete walls, its small barred window, the single bed with its thin mattress, the toilet within touching distance of where he lay his head every night, he didn't regret it. When he thought about spending the next twenty-five years of his life in this place without hope, without dreams, without a future, he didn't regret it.

He would have given his life to save Carla, he knew that without a doubt. But he hadn't been there, he hadn't been there to make that ultimate sacrifice, to give her life. So he made the ultimate sacrifice now. In the only way he knew how.

Laying down on his bed, he turned to face the wall where pictures of Carla were taped to the cool grey surface. He knew he didn't have much time left, so he spent those last few precious seconds gazing at those pictures, studying the features of the woman who had once ruled his heart in life and now ruled it forevermore in death. He reached out and touched the image of her, tracing his finger along the curves of her cheek; this was the closest he would ever get to her now.

As the lights in his cell were switched off by an unseen hand in some remote control room, Peter's connection with Carla shifted from the images on his wall and into his mind's eye. Soon they would creep into his dreams and give him the strength the next morning to face another day.

He pulled his hand back from the wall, from the image of her that would look down on him, look out for him, every day, day in and day out, for the next twenty-five years, and whispered in a hoarse voice, "Goodnight, my love."


End file.
